Muryeong stood at the entrance of the cave.
He did not hide himself,
nor did he assume an exaggerated stance of vigilance.
He simply fixed his gaze outward,
waiting for the slightest shift in presence.
The forest was only quiet.
Each time the wind brushed past, the leaves trembled,
and Muryeong did not bother trying to interpret the pitch of the sound.
He merely kept his breathing shallow,
like someone determined not to miss the moment a “different sound” mixed in.
A small light flickered from deeper inside the cave.
They could not make a large fire.
If the light spread too far, gazes would follow it just as far.
Mendel knelt beside the small embers on the ground
and soaked a strip of cloth in water.
Melanie sat with his back against a rock.
One hand pressed against his abdomen,
and his breaths were shorter than usual.
What showed first was his will not to move.
Mendel said quietly,
“Breathe slowly.”
Instead of answering, Melanie drew in another breath.
It did not go all the way in, but broke off midway.
Mendel did not miss that moment.
“Here.”
Mendel carefully lifted the hem of Melanie’s clothes.
The mark left on his abdomen caught the firelight.
It was not a wound that bled.
Instead, there remained a trace as if the flesh had been dented inward,
and the color around it was not normal.
Mendel’s hand paused for a moment.
“It’s deeper than I thought.”
Mendel soaked the cloth again and began cleaning around the wound.
The motion of wiping was slow,
and his fingertips were more careful than necessary.
Beside him, Miryeong was looking down at it.
For a while, Miryeong said nothing.
Irritation rose first on her face,
and only then did her mouth move.
“You got lucky.”
Her tone was light, as if she were tossing the words out,
but her expression was nothing of the sort.
She was not looking at Melanie,
but at the wound itself.
Melanie exhaled shortly and said,
“This hurts like absolute hell…”
The end of Melanie’s words trembled slightly.
As if trying to hide it,
he forced the corners of his mouth upward.
“Mendel, you can go a little easier.”
Miryeong snapped back at once.
“Stop talking nonsense.”
Melanie rolled only his eyes and continued.
“No, there’s no need to put so much care into it. Just do it roughly—”
Miryeong cut him off.
“Shut up and get treated.”
“You’re worried about me right now, aren’t you?”
“Close your mouth.”
Miryeong glared at Melanie as she spoke.
“If you say you’re going to die one more time, I’ll kill you myself.”
Melanie tried to laugh briefly, but his breath caught and he gave a dry cough.
“…All right, all right.”
Without saying a word, Mendel firmly secured the cloth covering the wound.
His movements were still careful.
“If you twist your body when you move, it will hurt more.”
“Yeah. Thanks, Mendel.”
Melanie answered shortly.
Miryeong let out a breath.
This time, it was rougher.
“Who did you say the opponent was?”
Melanie closed his eyes for a moment, then opened them.
“A knight. From the Empire.”
“I know that.”
Miryeong continued immediately.
“The name.”
“Lina Melop… or something.”
“Were you careless?”
“No. It happened in an instant.”
Miryeong’s gaze dropped to the wound, then rose again.
Her irritation deepened,
but she did not pry any further.
Miryeong swept her eyes over Melanie’s wound once more.
Then, very low,
almost like she was speaking to herself, she said,
“Lina…”
Instead of answering, Melanie lifted his shoulders ever so slightly.
Even that small movement made his breath follow a beat late.
After pressing the cloth one last time to check it, Mendel said briefly,
“You must not overexert yourself for the time being.”
Miryeong immediately responded.
“The time being isn’t the issue.”
Miryeong did not look outside the cave.
Even so, the direction was clear.
She was not looking “outside,”
but at “what came next.”
“We can’t go on like this.”
Even though she had not finished saying everything,
the air inside the cave grew a little heavier.
—
It was a place set some distance even from the deeper part of the cave.
In the darkness where the firelight did not reach,
Rangnan sat leaning against the wall.
His arms were crossed and his eyes closed,
but he did not look as though he was resting.
Erdin stood before him.
Even without being called,
Rangnan already knew he had approached.
“I saw it.”
Erdin spoke first.
His voice was low,
and there was no unnecessary emotion mixed into it.
Without opening his eyes, Rangnan said,
“After she took hold of the sword?”
Erdin gave a short nod.
“Yes.”
Erdin steadied his breath for a moment, as if choosing his words.
“At first, she was the same as usual. Her movements, and her judgment as well.”
“And then?”
“She changed for a moment.”
Rangnan’s fingers moved slowly.
His arms remained crossed,
but only his fingertips responded.
“How?”
“It began around her eyes.”
Erdin spoke neatly.
“Something like red scales appeared briefly near her eyes.”
Rangnan did not interrupt him.
“The flow of Idrin was different from usual as well.”
Erdin lowered his head very slightly.
“It may have been due to the situation, but the flow of Idrin was extremely rough.”
“How long?”
“It was not long. If the battle had continued, more might have shown itself, but—”
Erdin stopped speaking.
“It disappeared quickly.”
Only then did Rangnan open his eyes.
His gaze was not on Erdin,
but directed toward the ground.
“Her current condition?”
“No different from usual.”
Erdin made that clear.
The report was not a judgment.
For a while, no more words followed.
Only the wind blowing in from outside the cave skimmed along the stone wall and hummed.
“One thing is certain.”
Erdin added.
“It felt as if she was being influenced by the sword.”
Rangnan did not react immediately to those words.
After sitting without a word for a while,
he slowly let out a breath.
“Does it react to Idrin?”
It was a question,
but it was closer to confirmation.
Erdin neither nodded
nor shook his head.
He simply maintained his posture as he stood there.
“It seems hiding it will not be enough to end this.”
Rangnan’s words were low and composed.
He closed his eyes again.
This time, the pause lasted a little longer.
In his mind, Melanie’s wound,
the pursuit that would repeat itself,
and the image of the girl holding the sword overlapped and passed by.
Rangnan had not yet reached an answer.
The choice to leave things as they were
was the easiest choice.
And at the same time,
it might also be the most dangerous.
Rangnan said nothing for a while.
Faint sounds drifted from deeper inside the cave.
Melanie’s breathing,
and the sound of Mendel arranging the cloth.
All of it repeated in a steady rhythm.
With his eyes closed, Rangnan said,
“Erdin.”
Erdin responded immediately.
“Please speak.”
“I need to talk to Muryeong.”
That was all.
No reason,
nor any explanation, was attached.
Erdin nodded.
“I will convey it.”
He moved his steps toward the inside of the cave.
At the edge of the firelight, Miryeong looked at him first.
“What is it now?”
“Lady Miryeong.”
Erdin maintained his courteous tone.
“Lord Rangnan is looking for Lord Muryeong.”
Miryeong furrowed her brows.
“Now?”
“Yes.”
Erdin did not add anything.
Miryeong did not ask anything more either.
“…Fine.”
Miryeong answered shortly and rose.
Then she lightly shook herself off
and walked toward the cave entrance.
Muryeong was still standing in that same place.
His gaze toward the forest had not changed,
but he reacted to the sign of Miryeong approaching.
“Muryeong.”
Miryeong called him.
“Rangnan is calling you.”
Muryeong turned his head.
“The reason?”
“I don’t know.”
Miryeong shrugged.
“But I think you should just go.”
Muryeong looked at the forest for a moment,
then slowly nodded.
There was no hesitation in leaving his post.
Miryeong immediately took his place.
Muryeong entered the cave.
Only after hearing the sound of his approach did Rangnan open his eyes.
“You came.”
“Rangnan.”
Rangnan was silent for a moment, as if choosing his words.
Then soon,
he shifted his gaze toward Bido, who was inside the cave.
“Muryeong. There is something I would like to ask of you.”
Rangnan’s voice was low, but clear.
“Could you watch over Bido and teach her how to handle a Dragon Weapon?”
Muryeong did not answer right away.
His gaze remained on Bido.
It lowered to the sword,
then returned to her face.
No one could tell what judgment passed through him in that interval.
“Me?”
Muryeong opened his mouth.
“I’m not someone who teaches others.”
He did not look at Rangnan.
“I’m no teacher, and no caretaker.”
It was a short statement.
It was close to a refusal,
but it was not the end.
“And you’re saying you’ll have that child use something that dangerous—”
Muryeong’s gaze dropped to the sword again.
“Are you?”
It was a question, but not a reproach.
Merely confirmation.
A way of asking whether Rangnan understood
the weight of this decision.
Rangnan did not answer immediately.
Muryeong realized that the silence itself was the answer.
“……”
Muryeong let out a breath.
“Understood.”
Those words were neither acceptance
nor agreement.
They were closer to a judgment that this was no longer a stage where words could settle the matter.
Muryeong turned his head toward Bido.
His steps were slow, but there was no hesitation.
As he walked deeper into the cave,
he added one sentence.
“Instead.”
The words were directed at Rangnan.
“I’ll do it my way.”
And he said nothing more.
Muryeong stopped in front of Bido.
The Dragon Weapon was still strapped to Bido’s back.
He did not look at the sword first.
He looked at Bido’s face.
Without a word, Muryeong stretched out his hand.
Then he lifted the enormous axe that had been slung across his own back.
The axe blade was rough and unadorned.
It was simply large and crude.
When the end of the shaft touched the ground,
a dull sound echoed through the cave.
The axe was almost as long as Muryeong was tall.
It was not much different compared to Bido either.
Muryeong held it casually in one hand
and extended it toward Bido.
“Try lifting it.”
Bido looked at the axe for a moment,
then carefully reached out.
The instant her fingertips grasped the shaft,
her arms were dragged downward.
It was far heavier than she had expected.
Bido reflexively grabbed it with her other hand as well.
To keep the axe from falling to the ground,
she barely managed to support it with both hands.
“…It’s heavy.”
Her breath shortened.
It took effort just to keep herself upright.
Muryeong watched her for a moment.
“What do you feel?”
Bido clenched her teeth and said,
“Other than it being heavy… I’m not sure.”
Muryeong nodded.
It was the reaction of someone who had expected as much.
“That is normal.”
He took the axe back with one hand.
“A Dragon Weapon is empty by nature.”
Muryeong glanced once at the axe blade as he spoke.
“The user has to fill it with their own life force through Idrin for it to display its power.”
Holding the axe,
he closed his eyes for a very brief moment.
The surface of the axe blade slowly began to heat.
At first, heat seeped out.
Then, little by little, a thin light spread along the axe blade as if flowing.
It was a small bolt of lightning.
“Like this.”
Muryeong did not add an explanation.
He chose to show her instead.
Then he raised his head and looked at Bido.
Muryeong’s gaze naturally shifted to the sword strapped to Bido’s back.
“Hold that.”
Muryeong’s words were brief.
Bido did not move right away.
For a moment,
just a very brief moment, her gaze turned toward the axe.
Then it returned to herself.
The sword on her back was there.
Bido slowly reached out her hand.
Just before she grasped the hilt, her hand stopped.
The strange sensation she had felt before came back to her.
The feeling of the power flowing out of the sword and mingling inside her.
The moment when she had clearly been holding it,
yet could not tell where her own ended and where it began.
Bido drew in a breath.
Then she grasped the hilt.
Her breath stopped.
Nothing had happened yet.
Even so, Bido could tell.
This was different from Muryeong’s axe, which she had just held.
From where the sword was strapped to her back,
Bido carefully drew it down.
Muryeong watched her.
He did not speak, nor did he move.
The cave was quiet.
It was a different kind of silence from before.
Bido gripped the sword with both hands.
Nothing had happened yet.
At least, not outwardly.
Even so,
Bido could not take her eyes off the sword.
A wordless pressure
seemed to slowly tighten around her breath.